


senses

by schwanenkoenigin



Category: Fifth Harmony (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Biting, Blood Drinking, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Fluff, Supernatural Elements, god i suck at tagging help me, sort of???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-15 00:39:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11794818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schwanenkoenigin/pseuds/schwanenkoenigin
Summary: AU in which Camila seessomeonefor the first time when she's very young. It's an odd girl, and Camila can't explain or admit why she still thinks about her years later.Until she can./Prompt: Vampire Camila/Werewolf Lauren.





	senses

**Author's Note:**

> here it is. my longest one shot so far. i'm so sorry.

Camila is twelve when she first sees _her_.

She's at a local fair with her best friend Dinah: they decided to have some fun instead of going home right after school. But even though technically everyone should still be at work, it's crowded, and Camila doesn't like people. They're loud, and Camila's sensitive, so once she and her friend are done eating their shared fries, she reminds her that they should really _go_. Dinah sighs, but they do leave.

The two are making their way through the crowd when, suddenly, someone appears in front of them seemingly out of nowhere – which is strange – and Camila almost runs into the person. It doesn't happen. She comes to a stop before it does. Looks at who's the one preventing her from walking. Not a single word is spoken. Camila just curiously studies the girl's face. It's _different_ , somehow: not as pale as her own face. It's rather dark, actually. Her features are sharp, her cheekbones prominent, her lips red. Not pink but _red_. She seems to be about her own age, Camila guesses, but in a way, she appears older. More mature, too. Maybe it's her bone structure, maybe it's her hair – not disheveled at all, even with all the people around them, and everyone being hectic – all straightened, almost black.

Camila has never seen anyone quite like her. Or _smelled_ : for a split second then, Camila doesn't sense anyone, anything but _her_. There are so many things here – sweaty people, fatty foods, alcoholic drinks – but all she focuses on; all she _can_ concentrate on is this girl. It's such a unique sensation. Completely new. Utterly overwhelming. Camila has never experienced anything like it. Okay, she's only twelve years old, but she's heard of others who have been even younger and– she doesn't know what any of it means. Smelling someone, and _only_ that someone when there are so many other things you could potentially smell. You should smell.

It's unnerving, in a way.

Still, Camila smiles. Blushes once she realizes she's _staring_ , but the small grin doesn't leave her face.

However, the girl doesn't smile back, has a very blank expression on her face, and Camila can't help but frown when she notices.

It's weird. The girl is weird. She makes _Camila_ weird. She makes her question her own sanity, and it's nothing positive, and Camila wants to go.

Dinah must sense her discomfort. A second later, Camila's hand is taken, and she's led away from all the people. Away from everyone, including the little girl she met. Or– saw, rather. Sensed.  _Smelled_.

(Meeting someone is another deal entirely, Camila decides.)

Still, the girl's face shows up in a lot of Camila's dreams from then on. Not to mention her smell is ingrained into Camila's brain, heart, soul.

* * *

Camila is fourteen now. And, yes, she still thinks about the girl she kind of, sort of met – but not really – when she was twelve. It's truly bizarre. She can't put a finger on _why_ , but she's stuck with her. Every now and then, she thinks that it might be the fact that, even without being fully aware of what it meant, she smelled the girl's _blood_ – not anything superficial like, say, a perfume the girl or a parent had put on her wrists.

Maybe Camila wanted to try it. Her blood, that is. Taste it, taste _her_. Maybe she still wants to. She blushes. She's not even sure that that's it, but it's the only solid explanation she can come up with.

* * *

The grass has always been greener on this side of the park. It's weird, in a way, since every part gets the same amount of sun. Rain. (Except for the small patches covered with bushes and trees, maybe.) Yet the side that lies next to her school smells better, looks better, _is_ better. To sit on, to have picnics on, to do your homework on.

Lost in thought about the grass, Camila almost doesn't notice the shadow behind one of the trees that have been stealing her sun for the past minutes. But she _does_ notice. She involuntarily shivers, and desperately wishes she'd told Dinah to meet her earlier. It's only half past two; Dinah agreed to meet her at three.

Still half an hour left. Which – Camila groans – is probably going to be spent hoping she doesn't get attacked.

For a moment or two, she definitely considers getting up and coming back later, but it's not really worth it. The walk back home would take fifteen minutes, so she'd not even be able to _stay_ in her house for long. She shrugs, unpacks her lunch, and tries her best not to think about whatever there is behind that tree. (She doesn't succeed.)

It doesn't stop. The shadow, its _owner_ , keeps moving. It's barely noticeable. Just not to Camila. She looks to her right, tries to get a read on whatever or whoever's there, but she can't smell anything unusual. Just the grass, the wind, the leaves, the occasional dog. A few people. Faintly. That's about it. Perhaps her eyes are playing tricks on her. She shakes her head, and turns back to her still untouched lunch.

Minutes later, she swears, _knows_ she sees the shadow again, and this time, she swears, _knows_ it stops moving once it's behind the tree nearest to where she's sitting. It's odd, it's making her uncomfortable, it's scary. And Camila is about to get up and leave the place, call Dinah, tell her she can't make it when she smells it.

Well, really, she only catches a whiff of what's there, _who_ 's there, so close to her, but it's definitely enough for her to identify it.

It's so clear, such a strong memory that Camila almost blacks out.

She knows this smell. She knows it so well.

It's _her_.

* * *

The day at the park makes its way into her brain, into her heart, into her soul, as well. She doesn't tell Dinah, and she definitely doesn't tell anyone else. Keeps the secret to herself. She couldn't possibly share it. Nobody can know about her _obsession_ – or whatever it is. Nobody can know Camila has been thinking about the girl since she was twelve. Nobody can know that Camila has never really, truly _met_ the girl, talked to her, listened to her; and nobody can know that, even _despite_ that, Camila _wants_ her. Yes, she _wants_ her.

It's been three years since the park, and Camila's seventeen, and she finally realizes why the girl has always been on her brain. Has invaded her every fantasy. Why she hasn't left her dreams, thoughts, hopes even once.

Camila wants her. Needs her, really. Camila needs to mark her, _drink_ her, make her hers. Needs to be hers, too. That's why it's infuriating not being able to tell where she is. Not being able to see her. Not being able to touch her, hold her, _have_ her. Whenever she remembers this, Camila can't control herself. Her fists ball. Her fangs emerge. And, hell, she has such a strong need to sink them into the girl whose name she doesn't know's neck. Let the blood flow into her mouth.

Licking her lips, Camila sighs. However often she imagines it, and however much she _enjoys_ imagining it, it always ends up making her upset, making her feel like she's starving; she knows, deep down, that it's not going to happen. She doesn't even _know_ the girl. And yet – part of her _can't_ give up hope, and it's the worst part of her.

* * *

When Camila's eighteen, she notices for the first time just how incredibly strong their connection is. She still thinks of the mysterious girl from years ago every now and then, and every time it happens, it's overwhelming. Unbearable, almost. She will be reminded of their running into each other at the fair, or of her seeing the girl – or rather her _shadow_ – at the park, and she'll have to sit down for a bit. She can't prevent her fangs from coming out, she can't stop thinking about the girl's face, how she must look _now_ , and she certainly can't help how turned on she gets.

That part– it's new. Camila's not sure how long it's been happening – her getting aroused by thinking about a girl she barely even  _met_  that one time when she was too little to comprehend what was going on – but she knows it's happening now, it's been happening a lot lately, actually, and it's making her sort of frustrated. For one part because she knows the girl will never be there to _take care of her_ , because she has come to realize that taking care of _herself_ won't help in the slightest; for another part because she knows that even _if_ she happens to meet the girl sometime in the future, she can't let _it_ happen, anyway; she wouldn't be able to... hold back.

Camila groans loudly. Of course she'd have to want someone she couldn't ever have. Couldn't ever be with. And, quite honestly, she wants to hate the girl, but– it's impossible.

* * *

Camila's nineteen, and she can't help but feel like lately, someone's been following her. She wishes she could smell them, but somehow, she can't. Maybe they're too fast, or maybe they know how to cover their tracks somehow. It's scary, really. She goes to college like all of her sisters, and every time she goes to class, comes back from it, gets lunch, gets on the bus – basically every time she's outside – she swears someone's behind her. Not _directly_ behind her but following her at a distance. They hide behind buildings, benches, anything available. It's been a while since she first noticed, and today, she's particularly creeped out. Just– why does this person keep doing this? What do they want? Camila wants to know. So when nobody is nearby – she checks once, twice, three times because maybe someone has turned around the corner in the meantime – she whispers in a hushed voice, "Come out, whoever you are."

For anyone else, it might be a bad idea, seen as being followed usually does not end well, but Camila knows nothing can happen to her. She shouldn't be frightened. She needn't be, for this exact reason, but she _is_ because she's different, and she really wants to know what's been happening.

There's a noise from where Camila suspects the person to be, but it's not loud. It sounds like shifting; maybe the person wants to get away just in case Camila might identify them by their smell.

Smell. Smell. She smells–

"Oh," Camila makes faintly. It's familiar, it's stronger than it ever has been, and it's– it does so many things to her that her eyes roll into the back of her head and she's about to fall and– someone catches her.

Not just someone.

It's her.

It's so very clearly _her_.

* * *

Camila comes to while she's still in the girl's arms. 

"You fainted."

Camila looks around. She's in her own apartment. How did she get here? How did the girl–

Panicked, Camila moves away. She can't be here with _her_. Her– it's still all so strong, and she doesn't want to do anything stupid, especially not with someone who knows where she lives even though they've never talked before and– someone who's been following her and– "Oh," she repeats her earlier words.

The girl blushes – sort of; it looks bizarre – and looks down. Lets go of Camila.

Camila understands. This young woman in front of her – the one she met when she was twelve years old – feels _it_ , too. Just as strongly. Or even more so, judging from the way she tried to find her years later.

"You found me," Camila observes.

"It took too long." The girl smiles an odd smile that sort of resembles a frown.

"What's your name?" Camila can't very well keep calling her 'the girl' forever, can she?

"Lauren."

"Lauren," Camila draws out, "what a beautiful name." It's not a lie. It's definitely not a lie. She does find the name beautiful. Not as beautiful as she finds Lauren's hair and her face and her– her _smell_ , but beautiful nonetheless.

The name will forever be in Camila's heart now.

"Yours is, too." It's just as genuine. Lauren looks lost in thought for a moment before she leans forward.

Already fighting an internal battle, Camila expects the worst. A touch, a kiss– she couldn't handle. She's turned on beyond imagination, she's trying her best to hide her fangs, she's– she doesn't know if she could _not_ mark Lauren right away if anything happened right now.

Instead of kissing her, Lauren reaches for a strand of Camila's hair and puts it behind her ear. It's a gesture that makes Camila feel warm. She's never had that before. Ever. "Feels nice," she mumbles, "feels nice."

The response is immediate. Lauren growls.

Camila is speechless. She finds it sexy as hell, and she's not even sure _why_. Just– Lauren's voice has turned so _deep_ , and, wow, is Camila into it. She accidentally bites her lip, hard, and draws blood in the process. It doesn't hurt, but Lauren looks at her concerned. And, quite honestly, there's _lust_ in her eyes, too.

Maybe it's the blood. It's probably the blood. "You're bleeding." One of her fingers touch Camila's lower lip, but before she can wipe any of the small drops away–

They kiss. Camila can't hold back. She swore she'd try, hold out for as long as possible, but Lauren's fingers on her sensitive skin do unimaginable things to her core, and she kisses her bruisingly. Their lips fit perfectly. Move against each other perfectly.

Lauren groans, and Camila guesses it's at the sensation of tasting copper on her lips.

Camila has never kissed anyone before, but she instantly knows that this is what _perfection_ has to feel like. She never wants to stop this. Wants to feel Lauren's mouth on her own forever.

But the kiss breaks. Camila breaks it. Her cheeks are flushed, she's probably red all over. "Sorry," she says, embarrassed.

"Not a problem, dear," Lauren assures immediately. It's low. Not a growl, but close.

Camila realizes she hasn't _told_ her yet. How do you tell someone you're not human?

"I know what you're thinking," Lauren interrupts Camila's thinking, "you don't have to tell me."

How does Lauren– but then again, she did find Camila; she did find her apartment. "Yes, I do," Camila insists.

"Okay, but–" Camila feels Lauren move away from her slightly, "me first. I have a secret, too, you know." 

So it's true. Something _is_ going on. Something strange. And Camila is scared, but she wants, needs to know. So she can breathe.

"I'm–" Lauren inhales sharply, then exhales for a few seconds, and Camila wishes she'd just _say_ it. "I'm a werewolf. I can– I can turn into a wolf." Lauren looks like she's expecting Camila to leave.

And, yeah, the revelation shocks Camila, but not really, and not for long. And, no, Camila certainly doesn't want to leave. Can't leave. Because, for the first time ever, it all makes sense. Everything. Why she could smell Lauren so clearly, why she had been followed for so long, how Lauren never gave up, how her home had been found – everything. She laughs, and Lauren frowns. So she elaborates, "You know, it's funny. I've wondered so many things over the course of the years. And I thought that, in the end, there'd either be no explanation, that I wouldn't see you again, wouldn't meet you, or that there'd be too many explanations which I can't get into my head. But now that I know– wow," she ends in a whisper.

Lauren stares ahead.

"Just–" Camila adds a second or so later, "I never imagined there'd be such a simple explanation. That all my worries would just be– be washed away. In a heartbeat." She laughs again.

Her counterpart slowly turns to her. "You–" she swallows, "you're not afraid of me?"

"Never."

* * *

So Lauren has known about her. Since the beginning. Wolves, _were_ wolves sense that sort of stuff, apparently. Camila does wonder why  _she_ , as a non-human being, didn't sense _it_ , the truth about Lauren, too, but– she just takes it the way it is.

Lauren knowing, however, means that there didn't have to be any sort of big reveal, Camila told her she's a vampire, Lauren smiled and replied saying she was aware, Camila blushed, and that was the end of it.

It didn't take long for them to start kissing again after that. 

As soon as every secret (or not-so-secret) was out of the way, they could let their feelings, everything they'd kept inside for so long, out. 

And out they let them: they're still kissing. It's been an hour, more or less, and now they're on Camila's bed. Making out. Lips fighting, tongues battling, bodies entangled. They fit together well. So well.

Lauren is on top of Camila.

What's happening right now doesn't compare to anything Camila has felt in her life; it's all unexpected, and it's exciting, and she wants Lauren more than she ever has. Which is– Camila has _always_ subconsciously wanted the girl, but now–

Camila moans when she feels her fangs coming out to play yet again. She breaks the kiss. "Sorry, I–"

"Don't hold back, Camila," is the instant reply from the girl on top of her; and, yes, it's great, how much Lauren seems to understand her but– Camila really doesn't want to hurt Lauren. Almost as if she's sensing it, she adds, "You won't hurt me, I promise."

Camila believes Lauren when she touches her cheek, gently, caringly, and says, "Okay."

Lauren smiles her odd smile again and then leans back in.

They share another heated kiss. Camila doesn't hide her sharp teeth this time, even occasionally lets them play with Lauren's lips. It makes them groan, it makes them grin, it makes them– it makes _everything_ hotter.

Suddenly, it's Lauren who pulls back. She completely withdraws, sits back on her knees; on the other side of the bed.

Camila can't react fast enough. Can't grab one of the girl's hands to keep her close. When she's pulled herself together, has calmed down from the amazing kiss, she sits up as well. Watches Lauren. "What's wrong?" she asks, her voice raspy and low. She's still turned on. 

"I– I can't."

Camila doesn't understand. She can't _what_? "You–"

"I can't do this," Lauren repeats, and Camila feels like she's not getting something here.

"I don't– you can't do what?" Her heart beats fast; she doesn't– does Lauren not want her? Does Lauren not need her? Has Camila misinterpreted everything? She couldn't have, could she? Her entire life, their chasing after one another can't have been her imagination playing tricks on her, right? She swallows, hoping her fears are not about to become a reality. Her fears of losing Lauren before having gotten to know her.

"I– we can't go any further." Lauren looks down at the bed sheets, lets her hand play with them. Doesn't even glance at Camila.

"Why? Are you–" Camila tries to find the right words, doesn't want to assume, doesn't want to scare Lauren away, "what are you scared of?"

Lauren's head shoots up. She's gnawing on her lower lip, clearly afraid of something. Herself, maybe?

"Lauren–" Camila gets onto her knees and moves closer to the other girl, "What is it? Tell me." Her hand comes to lay on one of Lauren's knees.

Lauren retracts her hands and flinches, but lets Camila's hand rest there. She swallows. "I– I don't want to hurt you, Camila," she says earnestly.

"You're not going to," Camila replies encouragingly. She smiles a tight smile. Then her hand leaves Lauren's knee; instead, she lets it stroke Lauren's cheek. It ends up on her chin; and she manages to make Lauren look at her.

Camila shivers. Green eyes state right into her soul, and it makes her feel like she's opening up to Lauren more than she wants to. But, hell, at the same time, she loves it. She loves these green eyes, loves the sharp chin, cheekbones – loves everything about Lauren. So she surges forward and kisses her another time.

Before long, however, Lauren stops it, and repeats, "I can't. Camila, _please_. I don't want to–"

But Camila wants her so bad that she doesn't care. Whatever it is that Lauren's afraid of doing, Camila isn't. She isn't afraid of Lauren. She isn't afraid of anything the girl's capable of. She wants her, needs her, completely, and she's going to show her that. So she silences Lauren, Lauren's _doubts_ , and assures her, "I don't care."

"But you–" Lauren tries again.

"I don't care. Really, I don't. Do it. If you can't hold back, do what you need to do. I don't– I want you, Lauren."

They seem to be magic words because Lauren growls, her features sharpen even more, and before she knows it, Camila is being kissed harder than any other time before this. She's sure her lips are bruised by the time she realizes that Lauren is kissing her at all, but, hell, she's wanted this so bad; she's not going to complain. At all. In fact, she's so into it that it doesn't take long for her to bring her fangs into the game yet again. Well, really, she doesn't have much of a choice, it just _happens_. She bites Lauren's lower lip, and when she hears her response – a long, low groan – she decides it's not going to be the last time she uses her sharpest teeth on Lauren. The thought makes her grin into the kiss. 

Something changes. Camila is too lost in the sensation of Lauren's perfectly rough tongue against hers, but she does notice that something's going on–

It's– Lauren. Her tongue is becoming infinitely rougher, and wetter, somehow– 

Camila opens her eyes, pulls back, sinks into the pillow. She can't believe her senses when she sees– a wolf's head. She blinks a few times. It doesn't go away. It's real.

The werewolf's eyes are still closed. But they open a few seconds later when Lauren realizes they're not in the middle of a kiss anymore. She lets out a discontent growl, then hurriedly backs away from Camila. Her eyes, are full of fear.

Camila lets her gaze wander from Lauren's head to the rest of her body. Which – surprisingly – is still the same. She can tell Lauren is incredibly ashamed, but, hell, her eyes and her body and her still being so _Lauren_ make Camila not any less turned on, so she says, "It's okay." 

Lauren shakes her head.

"Lauren, look at me. It's–" Camila makes sure to stare deeply into Lauren's eyes, hoping that it makes clear just how much lust she feels, "it's _okay_." The way she says the word lets Lauren understand. 

Eyes grow wide, but Lauren doesn't protest again. Instead, she leans forward, climbs back on top of Camila. Lets their eyes connect again. 

It's a deep connection. Nothing superficial. Camila feels it. Is sure Lauren feels it, too.

Camila touches Lauren's arm. Lets her know that, whatever it is that Lauren has been so afraid of, it's fine, she can do it. Actually, Camila needs her to do it. "Please."

Lauren doesn't hold back, then. Which is exactly what Camila has wanted for so long.

For Lauren not to hold back.

They've held back all their lives.

It's time for them to let go.

Camila moans loudly when she feels razor sharp teeth sink into the side of her neck. Oh, hell. It hurts badly, but at the same time it feels so good. Her nails scrape down Lauren's clothed back. She loves this side of her already.

Lauren gets it. Bites down even harder. It makes Camila scream out both in pain and in pleasure.

When another few seconds have passed, Lauren pulls back an inch. Camila doesn't dare open her eyes. Doesn't want the sensation to go just yet. She feels blood trickle down her neck; waits for Lauren to do– more. 

And suddenly, there's a tongue. Lapping up the drops of blood coming from the wound. It's rough, it's raw, it's so _Lauren_. 

Camila writhes underneath her touch, her _licking_ , and, hell, she's been too turned on, too _wet_ , and Lauren has been doing incredible things to her, things she never dared dream of, things she didn't know she wanted being done to her, things she wants, needs from Lauren again and again and – she comes.

While Lauren still laps at her throat, Camila orgasms. She really didn't think anyone could come from a _simple_ bite, but here she is, shuddering, coming, hard.

When she's recovered from her incredible high, Camila sighs and closes her eyes; lies down on the pillow. She hardly notices Lauren shifting back into her human form. She expects the girl to tell her, "You're welcome," and grin but instead, she gets an anxious look, and a hushed, "I'm so sorry."

Already having been half asleep, Camila is suddenly completely awake again, and she wants to know, "Why? What for?"

"I shouldn't have– marked you," Lauren says. It sounds timid, embarrassed.

"You needn't apologize. I wanted you to," Camila promises and reaches out to prove her point. "Really. If I _hadn't_ wanted you to, I would've stopped you. But I didn't. because I _wanted_ it. Wanted _you_. In every way. I've always wanted you, I think. And I still do. I always will. The only difference is that, now, I'm actually yours. _Forever_." Camila bites her lip and blushes. She's actually Lauren's. Hell. This is– there are no words for this.

Finally, after almost a minute of no reply, Lauren says, "Okay," and smiles _her_ smile. A smile that Camila has grown fond of, even in this short amount of time. And– _oh_. It doesn't just make her stomach flutter in an innocent way– no. It makes her– oh, hell. It makes her want to _mark_ Lauren as well as she has just been marked herself. She pulls Lauren down. Close to her. Lightly kisses her cheek, holds her. Until– she shoves her back so her head rests right by the edge of her bed, and climbs on top of her. 

They kiss again and again, and Camila manages to take her own top off. Lauren follows. Camila grins into their next kiss, and, yes, she needs all of their clothes to come off. So she takes matters into her own hands. Undresses herself. Lauren. 

Just a minute later, they're naked. _Completely_ naked. With no underwear left in between them. Nothing. Skin is on skin, their limbs are entangled, they're lost in each other. Each other's smell, each other's taste, each other's feel.

They moan at the exact same time. And it makes Camila remember just what she wanted to do in the first place.

Mark Lauren.

So she does. Her lips leave Lauren's mouth. Wander down over her jaw, then up again over her cheek. Down the girl's throat. She stops when she has reached what she _knows_ is a very sensitive spot for everyone. She hopes Lauren being a werewolf doesn't change anything about this. She lets her fangs emerge. Opens her mouth, lets them graze over Lauren's throat just a little. Her response is immediate: her breathing becomes shallower, she lets out tiny moans every now and then.

Camila grows bolder. She starts nipping at Lauren's skin, lightly, while one of her legs comes to rest between Lauren's. Realizing just how wet the girl has gotten from kissing her, biting her, and quite possibly the prospect of _being bitten_ herself, Camila hums into Lauren's neck. Her fangs sink into the skin. She really, honestly can't –  _doesn't_ – want to hold back anymore. Her teeth quite literally rip Lauren's skin open; just enough for a few mouthfuls of blood to come out. And Camila drinks from it like she has been thirsty for weeks, for years; as if she has been waiting for this, for _Lauren_ , all her life. (Which isn't even exaggerated.)

While swallowing all of the red liquid that she can handle, Camila slowly, surely grinds down into Lauren; it's not fast, it's not wild; if anything, it's sensual. It's Camila trying to show Lauren everything she's wanted to do to her for years, for almost a decade. It's showing her how much she wants her. It's showing her how much she likes her blood, how much she likes drinking her.

And Lauren seems to get it; her moans are louder now, her breathing is ragged, her eyes are closed, she can barely hold back herself. That's what Camila sees when she's done drinking, when she's done wiping her lips. She feels Lauren grow even wetter – apparently it's possible, even though Camila did not think so – and only then do her motions get a little quicker. She's intent on making Lauren come. Soon. Hard. Because the girl deserves to have just an amazing experience as she has just had.

Lauren _gets_ it. Camila knows she does. She knows Lauren gets just how much she wants this, how much she wants them to be connected. And it's more than enough for Lauren to reach her climax. She goes still under Camila, but not a second later, her back arches, and Camila feels wetness flow against her thigh. She decides to make the experience even better, and leans back. Moves down on the bed. Comes to a stop between Lauren's legs.

Lauren's hot, and Lauren's still coming, and Camila says, "You're mine," in a voice that sounds somewhat similar to a _growl_ , and proceeds to sink her fangs into the fleshy thigh in front of her, drawing blood again, while at the same time pushing her two middle fingers into Lauren's opening. She watches the girl's face – it's an awkward angle but she _needs_ to see her face, so she somehow makes it work – and sees how much _better_ this makes the orgasm. Lauren's hands grasp the sheets for support, and, hell, Camila finds it extremely erotic. Finds it sexy how the pleasure shows on Lauren's face. How Lauren clenches around her fingers. It makes her want to come again, too. So she decides she's going to make herself. Her free hand descends her own body – it's hard, managing to keep up pleasuring Lauren with her teeth and fingers, while at the same time touching herself – and she enters herself, grinds down onto the sheets, watches Lauren, and, hell, she should feel embarrassed, ashamed, for being so turned on that she _humps_ the bed, but then she locks eyes with Lauren, with a _still_ coming Lauren, and–

Camila's fangs retract, and blood spills down the werewolf's thigh, but neither of the girls care – and when Camila climaxes, she swears Lauren does, too, _again_ : her muscles clench around Camila's fingers harder, her moans are _even_ louder than before. The way Lauren's face contorts in pleasure, it's–

Camila closes her eyes, grinds down into her own hand another few times. She most likely passes out for a couple of seconds, or even minutes, after her orgasm, because the next thing she knows she's lying in Lauren's strong arms. She slowly opens her eyes. 

Lauren's looking at her with her incredibly clear green eyes, and, yes, her smile may be odd, but she's still so perfect to Camila who knows the second she sees her that she's fallen in love.

And they don't keep secrets from each other, so she says it. 

Lauren says it back, adds, "I'm yours," and Camila swears, _knows_ she's never been happier. Because they're together now, and they've marked, _claimed_ each other. They'll never leave each other again. No, they couldn't be happier.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos would mean the WORLD. i am dead serious.
> 
> (congrats for even making it to the end of this, i guess. i feel like there are so many things wrong with this fic... god. i'm embarrassed. but thanks for sticking with me, y'all are great and i love you ok)


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